


Blowing Bubbles

by Cordelia_Sun



Category: Farscape
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, Post-Peacekeeper Wars, Shippy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3347777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordelia_Sun/pseuds/Cordelia_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sun-Crichton family take some time out to play on the terrace and, for once, all is well in the galaxy.</p><p>Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowing Bubbles

**Author's Note:**

> Written for TVUniverse Challenge 7x10 - Family

Aeryn stopped to catch her breath at the entrance to the terrace. She arched her back—stretching out her aching muscles—and ran a hand over her vastly swollen belly…not long now. She remained quiet for a moment; happy to watch the little scene unfolding before her on the deck.

“You gotta catch all of them!” John called as he waved his arm in a wide arc over the small chuckling child toddling under his feet. A shower of bubbles streamed from a home made bubble wand, and the boy skipped and clapped to catch them before they fell to the floor. They’d been at this game for almost an arn.

“Pop!” D’Argo squealed as he got a big one with the tip of his finger. He spun around in unsteady circles and beamed as he caught sight of his mother, “Pop Mama!”

Aeryn folded her arms across her bump and smiled indulgently at her boys.

John loaded the wand with mixture and, walking backwards toward her, waved another waft of bubbles for the boy to catch.

“Hey,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek, “you come to take over? I’m beat!”

“What, at blowing bubbles?” she smirked at him, “It’s hardly advanced training, John.”

“It’s exhausting. He’s exhausting…he never stops!” D’Argo bounced in front of them, demanding attention, and John offered another wave of bubbles in appeasement.

“One wonders how you’ll cope when there are two of them?”

“It’ll be fine,” he said with a grimace and looking thoroughly unconvinced, “two of them…two of us. No problem.”

He shrugged and handed her the wand, “here, you have a go.”

Aeryn took the wand with a wary frown. She wasn’t good at this kind of thing but she did try to make an effort; it seemed to please them both. She dipped the wand into the pot that John held out for her and took a few steps forward.

“Would you like some more bubbles?” she asked, crouching down, feeling silly and self-conscious.

“Pop!” D’Argo squealed and clapped.

Aeryn, guessing that meant yes, waved the wand and conjured bubbles for a delighted boy who jumped to catch as many as possible. When all the bubbles were gone he looked up at her expectantly; chubby fingers clutching at her leg.

“You did very well,” she said, “you have very good reflexes. If you concentrate on controlling your movements more precisely you’ll have a much higher success rate.”

She heard a bark of laughter from behind her and she looked round to see John watching her; his thumb at his lips and eyes crinkled at the corners.

“What?” she asked with a shake of her head.

“Nothin’,” he said as he stepped over to help her up out of her deep crouch. He wrapped an arm around her, “I wonder why you were never so patient with my performance assessments.”

“Well, you never showed as much promise.” She smirked at him.

He pulled her into a hug, awkwardly negotiating around the belly, and Aeryn relaxed into his embrace. After a few moments Aeryn became horribly aware of something subtly wrong. She pulled back with a frown.

“What’s up?” John asked.

“It’s too quiet,” she said.

They twisted around looking for D’Argo; worried that he’d escaped and gone wandering the ship on his own…again. Instead they spotted him standing right at the edge of the terrace. He gazed up through the screen at the black of space beyond; still and silent. His small arms raised above his head in open greeting to the stars.

“Deke?” John called to him and the boy turned slowly to look at them, “what’ya doing buddy?”

“Pop!” he said, and pointed out into space, “Pop Daddy!”

In that moment—on a trajectory along the line of that chubby little finger—the black of space flexed, rippled and collapsed into a white whirling wormhole.

 

 


End file.
